Chapter 38
Keira
Charon’s magic got us in undetected through Maythem waters and the Guard, but now lay ahead the final task. Getting through the kingdom on our own.
The Northern Isles, for many reasons, was one of the most heavily guarded of all the five nations. Ever since the kingdom’s princess, the precious heir to the entirety of the Northern Isles, faced an invisible threat and her senses were suspended somewhere between dark and darker, the Guard had been deadlier, warier and swifter. The royals were to be protected at all costs and somewhere high up in the spiked white towers of the Stunngard Castle lay yet another locked-up princess, her mind lost.
The lumbering crowd ahead of us near the many uniform blue docks of the shore was unremarkable. Quiet but not unhurried, the people of the capital kingdom of the North. Everyone dressed in tones of dull unassuming gray and stark white fur, unbothered of the quickly falling snow and the chills sure to be running up their spines.
The only chill I felt was one of worry, one that I quickly shrugged off. Rorcan however, wasn't quite so discreet in hiding his discomfort. Clad in delicate navy and accustomed to perpetual sunshine, the older Malavek didn't seem much fond of the glacial capital of the North.
“I don't expect an answer… unless you’re having second thoughts,” Rorcan finally spoke from a step behind me as I peered through the throng of people into the streets of the kingdom.
“Do me a favor and keep your opinions to yourself will you Malavek?”
I was met with silence.
I didn't wait for him as I went straight into the kingdom.
It was cold, stars it was so cold. But only a little longer and I could take care of that.
I kept my rucksack close and didn't spare a glance to see if Rorcan followed. He was becoming a nuisance, but ending the second claim to the Southern throne wouldn't help anyone. So if he was as quiet as rumor claimed then I would be eternally grateful.
My eyes roved over the streets filled with Stunngardians and not many tourists; they were too well protected and conserved for that. Most of the buildings were white with the occasional contrast of blue and nearly whole structures were of flawless glass. Flawless, like the people that resided here; always someplace to be, with dispositions as cold as the weather they were used to.
Blending in with the crowd wasn’t necessarily an easy task, what with a dress that wasn't exactly Northern fashion and a tag-along that looked too Southern. Rorcan's golden skin and night-swept hair was a far cry from the alabaster blush and frosty silver hair of the Stunngardians.
We weaved through the hundreds and when I looked ahead at the spiked white castle atop the unnerving mountain carved by wind and cold and fury, all I could think of was, I miss Riveria.
To be continued…